


The Cliché

by bigblueboxat221b



Category: Come From Away - Sankoff & Hein
Genre: Diane POV, F/M, Holding Hands, In Gander, Kind Strangers, Strangers to Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:35:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23191753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigblueboxat221b/pseuds/bigblueboxat221b
Summary: Diane is so relieved to hear David is alright that she breaks down right there in the hallway. Fortunately someone's there to check she's okay.
Relationships: Nick/Diane
Comments: 9
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello dear readers! In this uncertain time I hope we can all gain comfort from writing and reading lovely stories about our favourite pairs. This one's been simmering for a while, but it's finally complete for you.  
> Stay safe and be kind.  
> <3
> 
> Disclaimer: This is not RPF  
> While Nick and Diane in the musical are based on real people, this story is set strictly in the fictional representation of them in the musical, ‘Come From Away’. I haven’t done any research into their personal lives, and anything further than what is canon in the musical is completely made up, with the exception of some geographical details. This is not intended to represent the real life couple in any way, their thoughts, attitudes or actions. It’s just my brain saying, ‘what if?’, as it does to every story that resonates with me.

It was such a cliché. Pacing a hallway late at night waiting for a phone call. She might as well be in a Hallmark movie, except for the details. Perhaps that was all that separated those movies anyway, she thought, wringing her hands again. From the outside they all seemed terribly similar, but when you looked at the details…

She was in Canada. Stuck here, unable to contact her son. In movies it was often something joyous on the end of the expected phone call – the birth of a baby, confirmation of a job, a lost child found. This time it was the simplest of ideas – a call from her son – but it would mean he was safe. His loose plans to visit his cousins in upstate New York hadn’t been finalised when they parted ways in London; she actually had no idea what he’d been doing while she was in the air, or now on the ground in Canada.

He wasn’t at home, or with his father. The radio-silence had extended that far, it seemed, and nobody could get through to anyone in the New York City area. Diane had tried leaving messages with her nephews, but nobody had called back. It was possible they’d gone fishing up at the lake, in which case it might be days before they even knew what had happened, let alone returned to the house and the dozens of messages family had left, trying to confirm everyone was alright.

But she couldn’t think so negatively. She was hardly the only one with question marks hanging over loved ones. Several people were desperately trying to get through to family in New York. One man’s sister worked at the Pentagon, and from the look of anxious fear on his face, he still hadn’t heard from her. They all paced, moving like dancers to avoid bumping into each other, the choreography determined without speaking or looking at each other. It was as though everyone wanted to keep their grief private, the possibility that they were worrying unnecessarily taunting them all as it flitted restlessly through the crowded halls.

When the third hour rolled slowly by, Diane approached the desk. The women there had been taking phone calls all night, making notes of names; they had barely looked up, such was the volume of calls, and Diane hadn’t wanted to bother them. But the pile of messages grew, and Diane wondered if there was message there from her son. Hesitantly, she offered to try and find the people for whom the messages had been left. The woman, one hand on the phone as it rang yet again, flashed her a grateful smile and passed over the thick wad of papers.

When Diane turned around, she realised the choreography had stalled, and people were now looking at her expectantly. She glanced down, noting with relief the organised sheets of information. The first recipient’s name sounded hesitant when she called it but a woman came forward, one hand pressed to her mouth. Emboldened, Diane continued, not having to do anything for a short while as people responded to the names as she called them out. Some of the messages had notes about which rooms people would be in, and when she’d called every name twice – her own was not on the list – Diane started with Room 1, working her way slowly around the school, grateful for something to do. She probably woke people, calling names into dimmed classrooms, but nobody seemed to mind too much when someone came rushing forward. Most hands were shaking as they received their messages; more than one sigh of relief sounded as anxious eyes read confirmation of a loved ones’ safety.

By the time she was done, Diane was exhausted. She returned the unclaimed messages only to find someone else had taken over, reading out names as the messages were taken; another person offered to deliver those with room numbers to the right places. It was a relief to know people would find out as soon as possible. Diane returned her papers, and at the prompt of the new announcer, gave her name. When his eyes lit up and he turned to flick through the messages to which he’d had no response, her heart started thumping hard. As she reached for the paper, she understood why so many hands had shaken so hard. The message was short and simple; her son was safe in Texas.

It was all she needed to hear. A quick smile, tremulous at best, and she retreated, tears blinding her before she could find somewhere private enough to break down. Her knees gave out as she made it to an alcove with plastic chairs and she sank down, the message fluttering to the floor as she pressed her hands over her face, letting the tears and relief flow. Her son was safe. He wasn’t on one of those planes – and the realisation hit her again, a fresh flow of tears for the shock of what had happened to her country. The whole _world_. Her family had not been rent apart by this, but so many others had – and instinctively, she knew it was the end of something, of the kind of innocence that doesn’t even dream such an idea is possible.

It was overwhelming, and she could feel herself shaking, the emotions strong as they pulsed through her body. Thought were too much, and she simply tried to breathe. That was difficult enough, the wracking sobs and inevitably blocked nose making things far more challenging, but at least it was something on which to concentrate. When she felt the sharp edges of it ease a little, there was enough space for her brain to kick into gear again, albeit a low one. Something felt different inside her, but she couldn’t tell what it was quite yet. Food and sleep would help; she could feel hunger and fatigue gnawing at her body now that the more immediate need for information was satiated.

It was a shock to see a familiar face when she sat up. Nick – the kind, awkward Englishman from the plane – was sitting on a seat in the same alcove. He wasn’t doing anything, as far as she could tell, but when she sat up he straightened too, rubbing his hands together nervously.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly.

He’d asked her on the plane, too, Diane remembered. Everyone here was suffering to some extent, and she didn’t blame anyone for their focus on their own life, but it was comforting to have someone ask how she was doing. Before she could respond, he added,

“Is there anything I can do?”

Diane blinked, the potentially difficult question answering itself in her mind. She nodded, standing up, trusting that he would follow suit, and he did. She didn’t pause, simply stepping closer and holding her arms out a little in the hopefully universal gesture for a hug. Nick hesitated, but then he closed the last of the space between them and his arms came around her back. He was as solid and warm as she needed, and it was curiously unselfconscious as she returned the gesture, tightening her arms and revelling in the deep contact.

Eyes closed, breathing in the air warmed by his chest, Diane had no idea how long they stood there. Nick was gracious enough to stand quietly in the embrace and it wasn’t until they were easing apart she realised how awkward that might have been for him. Her thanks were quiet, and she didn’t meet his eyes until he’d allowed the subsequent silence to linger.

He smiled back, shiver down her spine.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “Thank you.”

A sudden uneasiness passed through her as she realised what an unusual situation she’d placed them in.

“Sorry,” she said, stepping back, “that was maybe a bit strange.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “Good news about your husband, I hope?”

Diane frowned. “My husband?” she said. “I don’t have a husband.”

Nick’s frown matched her own, and his cheeks were definitely pinker. “I’m sorry, I assumed when you said on the plane…”

“Oh!” Diane realised the misunderstanding. “No, it was my son. David. He might have been flying to New York,” she felt the tears threaten again, but managed to finish with, “but he wasn’t.”

She was crying again, the complicated mix of emotions too strong to contain, and without thinking she reached again for Nick. Finding him waiting, his arms wrapping around her, felt perfectly right, and Diane didn’t even think again about the odd intimacy that had developed. He was comforting her, patient and steady and this time she felt herself calm much faster. When her breathing was steadier Diane still didn’t move, taking a moment to enjoy the embrace. It was one of the things she often missed about having a partner – this kind of extended hug, where nobody is saying hello or goodbye or congratulations. The ‘I just need some human contact’ kind of thing that she didn’t get so often these days.

It could have been completely awkward. But Nick didn’t move, and she noticed that she fit nicely under his chin, his hands curving across her back with the right amount of pressure to say, ‘I’m not leaving’ without making her feel like she was trapped. Diane took three more deep breaths, then three more, and one final breath before she could ease away.

“Sorry,” she said, with a laugh that did nothing to cover her embarrassment. “I think I’ve left quite a wet patch on your shirt.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” he said, peering down at it. He looked back at Diane without dismay. “I’m glad your son’s safe.”

Diane smiled, not wanting to talk about it. “What about your family?”

Nick’s face changed, a tight smile flashing before he said, “No family. I did call work to let them know.” He tried for a laugh. “Not sure the receptionist was all that fussed, to be honest.”

Diane’s heart constricted. There was a heck of a story there, she was sure of it, but now was hardly the time. “Well, I’m glad you don’t have to worry, at least,” she said, hoping the sentiment came across as she intended it. She looked around. “What do we do now?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Nick said. “Have you been shown to a classroom to find somewhere to sleep?”

“No,” Diane said. “I headed right for the phones.” She could hear her voice wobble but she put on a brave face. “I suppose I’ll have to find somewhere.”

“We could find somewhere together, if you wanted to,” Nick said. “I mean, it would be nice to have a familiar face, if that’s something you’d…”

He trailed off as Diane reached out to take his hand. “Yes please,” she said, his consideration warming her heart. As they walked back towards the classrooms Diane reflected that she would never have considered any of her earlier actions appropriate. She’d always worried so much what other people would think. But here there was nobody who knew her, but even then it seemed far less important. If she wanted a hug, and Nick was willing, why did it matter? And if it would have seemed forward for him to offer to stay with her, or her to take his hand, it certainly didn’t now. The connection was comforting as they followed the directions from the foyer down a dimly lit hallway o the last classroom.

“There’s space over here,” Nick whispered. The room appeared to be filled with mattresses on the floor. Most had people curled under blankets, but there was an empty one towards one corner. Diane followed without comment. As they drew closer, she could see they were not mattresses but gym mats, wide and heavy. Right now she was so tired she didn’t even really care what she slept on.

“Why don’t I stay here while you find the ladies’?” Nick asked.

“Okay,” Diane said. She found it, completing her ablutions on autopilot before returning, mouth still tingling with mint.

Nick tagged with her and she arranged her airplane pillow and blanket along with the blanket folded at the end of the bed. When she lay down she had the intention of waiting for Nick but before he reappeared she was asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

When Diane woke, she felt disoriented, as though something had jerked her out of sleep to full wakefulness without the intervening few moments. She blinked, her brain scrambling to catch up on all the information now coming in from this unfamiliar place.

Bright. It was bright, and big, and there was a lot of movement.

And _loud_. Despite the obvious effort, dozens of people talking quietly was impossible to dampen.

Drawing her eyes closer, Diane focussed on the person closest to her.

Nick.

He was still sleeping. They had been lying close, far closer than Diane had thought they would have been. She had moved towards him at some point, and she wondered if he had done the same thing. Diane took a moment to study him. His eyes were closed, of course, and she realised she missed his eyes. They were kind, she thought, but even without them, his whole face was kind.

The hours of sleep had worked wonders and she felt much better. Recalling the previous night made her cringe a little; she hoped Nick would be gentle when he recalled how needy she’d been. Even her justification about not caring what people thought didn’t quite work. She obviously cared what Nick thought.

“Good morning,” Nick’s voice sounded beside her.

Diane blinked, refocussing. “Good morning,” she replied. It was odd to be lying here with someone she knew so little, but she didn’t really want to get up and join the large crowd of people everywhere else.

“Did you sleep well?” Nick asked.

“Yes,” Diane said. “I feel better this morning.” She paused, wondering if she should bring up the previous night. “Thank you,” she blurted without pausing again. “For your kindness last night. I wasn’t thinking right.”

Nick smiled, then sat up and reached for his glasses. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes!” Diane said more emphatically than she’d intended. “I didn’t realise I was.” She glanced at him. “I have no idea when I last ate.”

“Neither do I,” Nick replied. “I don’t even know what time it is.”

“Or what day,” Diane added.

They both stood up, straightening their clothes as much as they could and putting shoes on before heading for the door. There were still enough people resting that it seemed considerate to wait until they were in the hallway before they spoke to each other.

“Which way?” Diane asked. “I didn’t really notice last night.”

“This way,” Nick said. He lifted his hand, and she thought he was offering it to her. She reached, but realised he was merely pointing the way; there was no way to cover it, so she dropped her hand immediately.

“Oh,” Diane said, flushing at her mistake. “Sorry.”

“Not at all,” he said, extending her hand.

To her astonishment, she took it without melting down and they walked in the direction Nick remembered the cafeteria. It should have been strange, but it was not. Perhaps this was part of the feeling different she’d experienced last night. If she wanted to hold his hand, and he was amenable, why did it matter if it wasn’t what other people would do? The possibility that he might want to hold her hand too occurred to Diane, and she frowned a little. Really? She wasn’t sure that was right.

“Are you alright?” Nick asked.

“Yes,” Diane said. “Just thinking about things.”

Nick nodded, but didn’t push. They joined the line for food, each choosing from the huge trays available before finding a pair of seats on the end of a long table. It was good, and Diane felt much better after a cup of coffee and a full meal.

“Now what?” she asked. “Do you know what’s happening with the planes?”

“Let’s go back out to reception,” Nick suggested. “That seems to be where everything is happening.”

“Okay,” Diane said, and this time they both reached at the same time. She didn’t say anything, but a quick glance at Nick showed her he was glancing at her, and they shared a smile. So he wasn’t just tolerating it, from what she could tell. There wasn’t really time to try and analyse what that might mean; reception was close, and soon they stood before a large board of information headed ‘READ BEFORE ASKING QUESTIONS’.

“Seems reasonable,” Diane murmured. She and Nick worked their way through a huge amount of information, from where to get medication to what the weather might be like to where clean clothes might be found.

“Clean clothes might be nice,” Nick murmured.

“Yes,” Diane said. They followed the directions and found a classroom packed with donated clothes. They agreed to meet back at the main entrance when they were done. Diane was helped to find something that would fit – it wasn’t her style at all, but she was touched that someone had obviously stripped out their wardrobe so she might have something clean to wear.

She changed, and left her own clothes in a labelled bag – the woman explained that someone would wash them and bring them back for her. Diane was still shaking her head when she met Nick in the entrance way.

“So kind,” she said in response to his puzzled expression.

“Yes,” he said. The bomber jacket sat awkwardly on his shoulders, and Diane could tell it wasn’t his usual style.

“Shall we go for a walk?” Diane suggested. “I can’t sit around here all day.” She gestured at the board. “And from what I can tell, we won’t be leaving anytime soon.”

“Certainly,” Nick replied.

They walked out the front door, heading towards what appeared to be the main street of the town. Several people slowed to ask if they wanted a lift, which amused Diane.

“My mother would have had a fit if I took a ride from a stranger,” she said. “But I can’t imagine anything happening here.”

“No,” Nick agreed. “It appears to be a town full of remarkably selfless people.”

They talked more about their respective upbringings. It was a more personal conversation than Diane would have anticipated, but she was fast learning not to put her previous expectations on this. As she talked to Nick, the words came effortlessly, and she found him a considerate and easy companion. He was considered when he spoke, and she was surprised how carefully he listened to what she was saying. His upbringing was quite different to hers, but they were similar enough in their outlooks right now that she felt more and more comfortable with him.

Holding his hand as they walked didn’t hurt. It was natural, and the consistency of that one thing as they moved through the unfamiliar town, with the unfamiliar shops and accents made her feel safe. They walked for a while by the water, and she wondered if he found it as calming as she. Nick’s gentle presence was part of it too. He walked between her and the street, and when they decided to stop for a coffee and donut, he held the door for her. His manners were almost quaint, but they made her feel special. As though she was worth the effort of being polite. Diane tried to concentrate on the board but she was more aware of Nick’s presence.

“Let’s share some of those donut holes,” she suggested.

“Sure,” he said. He turned to the server. “I’ll have a black coffee with room for milk,” he said.

“And I’ll have a latte,” Diane added.

The server blinked at them for a second before starting their order.

“Was there something weird about our order?” Diane asked. She’d taken a seat – after insisting she pay her way – and Nick waited for their coffees and brought the tray over to the table she’d picked. He raised one eyebrow as he considered his words. Diane suspected he was taking the time putting his drinks down and seating himself before answering.

“I think,” he said, offering the donut holes, “she was surprised at the difference in our accents.”

Diane frowned. “Okay,” she said. “Oh these are good.”

“They’re called Timbits,” Nick told her.

“I thought there’d be heaps of different accents here right now,” Diane said. She looked at Nick, who was examining his coffee quite carefully. “Nick?”

He looked up, the apology in his eyes. “I’m fairly sure she thought we were married. At least until we spoke.”

“She thought we were married?”

Nick nodded, his eyes watching her.

_He thinks I’ll be upset._

Diane took a drink of her coffee, considering the idea. Actually, she thought it was kind of…nice. Amusing, but there was an edge of _that wouldn’t be terrible_ that she couldn’t ignore, either. Returning Nick’s gaze, she smiled at him.

“That’s kind of funny,” she said. “Did she ask you? What did you say?”

Nick visibly relaxed, though not entirely. There was an edge of something else still there, and Diane felt her heart stutter for a second. He really was quite attractive, she thought to herself as he answered.

“She asked, and of course I told her we were not.”

“And did she believe you?” Diane glanced over at the server. She was watching them intently, but as Diane met her eye she blushed hard and turned away.

“I don’t think so,” Nick admitted.

Diane giggled and waved at the server before pointedly taking Nick’s hand over the table. Part of her brain was wondering what she was doing, the other was egging her on. Nick looked startled, but his fingers still curled around hers and she grinned at him. His returned smile wasn’t as certain as hers, and she suddenly had a thought. Tugging her hand from his, she said,

“I’m sorry. I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I? With this?” She waved her hand around. “I’m just being silly – God, I don’t know the last time I was quite this juvenile. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Nick said, “It’s fine.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, though, and Diane thought she might have hit a nerve.

“Do you want to walk somewhere?” she said. “We could find somewhere quiet to talk, if you want. Or not. We could just agree to never mention this again.”

She was attempting some level of humour, even though she was serious. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was make Nick uncomfortable, especially as he’d gone so far to comfort her while they’d been here.

He was looking at her again, and she could almost see him come to a decision. In the second between the decision and his words, her heart somehow sped right up. And then he straightened and spoke.

“Yes. Let’s find somewhere quiet. If you’d care to, of course.”

Diane didn’t speak, just collected their trash and stood, putting it in the trash can as they walked to the door. She hesitated, then remembered passing a trail a little further behind.

“I think there’s a trail down to the water?” she said.

“Yes,” Nick agreed, and neither mentioned it as their hands came together again. They were quiet as they walked; the conversation of earlier had been easy, but now the silence held the same companionship. It wasn’t an awkward silence, just the unspoken agreement that this was best for the moment. Diane wondered what he was thinking about. The old her might have worried he was regretting his decision, but somehow that wasn’t an issue. If he didn’t want to talk, they wouldn’t talk. Even if they simply sat together, she knew it would help, and from what the rest of the day had shown her, he was on a similar page in this remarkable connection they were building on with every moment together.

They turned together down the small trail, gravel crunching under their shoes. The trees were low and unfamiliar, and the water was soon visible. A light wind was coming off the water, but it wasn’t cold.

“Is that the ocean?” Nick asked.

“I think so?” Diane said without conviction. “Some kind of inlet, I think.” The trail opened out into a small clearing and Diane was relieved to see a wooden bench. When they sat – again, without speaking or dropping their hands – they were completely protected from the rest of the world. It was just the two of them, the water, moving slowly across their field of view, and the sky.

_Peaceful._

Diane wasn’t specifically waiting for Nick to speak first. The whole scene was so peaceful she was simply enjoying it. The anxiety she’d been unintentionally carrying around was slipping quietly into the water to be drifted away, and it was…nice. Especially to sit here with Nick, his hand now familiar in hers, sitting close enough their shoulders and knees touched.


	3. Chapter 3

“I was almost married,” Nick said.

Diane turned to look at him, but his eyes were far away across the water. You could just about see the other side of the inlet from here, she realised, following his gaze. Diane didn’t want to push, so she didn’t reply.

“I haven’t thought about it for a long time,” he said. “Not until today, when the server thought…what she thought.”

Diane nodded. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That must have been difficult.”

Nick didn’t reply for a while, and Diane shifted her eyes from his face back out over the water. She shifted her weight, her fingers flexing a little in his. She felt his tighten in response, and in her peripheral vision he looked down. She deliberately didn’t watch him; there was obviously a lot going on in his head and she didn’t want to push him.

“This is nice,” he said. “Not something I’m used to, if I’m honest.”

“Me either,” Diane replied. “I’ve been divorced a long time.”

They were not talking about how they were not talking about dating, Diane realised. Not that this was really dating, but there was definitely something between them, even after this short time.

“Well as long as we’re both…okay with this,” Diane said, flexing her fingers, “I guess that’s all that matters right now.”

Nick’s fingers tightened again on hers, and this time when he turned, she did too. They were looking at each other over a very short distance now. In the light his eyes were sky blue, she thought.

_Why have I not noticed that until now?_

It was the kind of moment in which someone might decide to kiss someone, Diane was very aware, and with a rush she realised she would be more than okay if that happened. She could feel her eyes widen as she realised more than that. She wanted to kiss Nick. Did he feel the same? He was certainly looking at her very intently, but a flash of doubt signalled the moment she could tell he wouldn’t make that move.

Disappointment and relief flooded Diane – what would happen if one of them had actually done that? They barely knew each other, for goodness sake. The doubts she’d thought were gone rose again, perhaps reflected from Nick or of her own making, but the outcome was still the same. She glanced away, feeling her face flush. Nick cleared his throat and turned back to the water. At least we didn’t let go of our hands, she thought. There was still that. They were still…whatever this was. Maybe they just weren’t more than that yet.

They sat for a while longer. Diane found the water almost hypnotic. It wasn’t fast or slow, it just kept moving. The waves grew as the breeze became stronger, and the whitecaps dancing across the surface made her smile and almost forget why she was here.

“Shall we go?” Nick asked eventually. “I would love to see if I can find a cup of tea, actually.”

“Of course,” Diane replied. “Do you think the shelter will be more likely to have some?”

They walked back to the shelter, their conversation growing slowly from small talk about the food at the shelter and back towards more personal conversations. They found tea that Nick deemed acceptable, and the flush as Diane laughed at his description was adorable once more. They’d found a stretch of grass to share, and although the space was hardly quiet, their focus on each other made the other people seem distant enough.

“How bad can a cup of tea really be?” Diane asked.

Nick looked appalled at the question. “Please tell me you had proper tea while you were in London,” he said.

“We had a high tea once,” Diane said. She deliberately wrinkled her nose. “The cream was…weird.”

“Weird?” Nick asked.

“Not sweet, and really thick,” Diane said. “I’m pretty sure it wasn’t squirted out of a can.”

She knew what clotted cream was, but it was irresistible to tease Nick about this clear cultural difference. He shook his head in despair as she laughed, leaning forward to cover his hand with her own as she reassured him it was a joke.

“I don’t know,” he said, turning his hand over to capture hers again, “it’s a whole different language, food in America.”

Diane smiled, her skin tingling where Nick’s thumb was stroking the back of her hand. Was he even aware he was doing that?

“You sound as though you spend a lot of time in America,” she said.

“I was headed to Dallas for a conference,” he said. “I attend every year. Plus a few other trips in between.”

Diane nodded, ignoring the swoop in her belly.

_He comes to Dallas regularly._

“So you’ve figured out what you like, then?” Diane asked, sipping her tea. It was good, she admitted to herself.

“More what I don’t like,” he said. “Tex-Mex is not a favourite.”

“Ah, you haven’t had good Tex-Mex,” Diane grinned. “That’s practically a criminal offense, admitting you don’t like it.”

Nick grimaced. “I know. I’ve had to come up with quite a lot of reasons to avoid it.”

Diane raised one eyebrow. “You’ve lied? Nick…what is your last name?”

“Marson,” he said.

“Marson,” she repeated. “Well, Nick Marson, I did not peg you for a liar.”

“I’m not,” he said indignantly, then added ruefully, “except perhaps when it comes to Tex Mex.”

“Well, I’ll keep that in mind,” Diane said. “Though you haven’t lived until you’ve tasted my Aunt’s tortilla soup.”

“Tortilla soup?” Nick repeated. He shuddered. “No thank you. Give me a roast dinner any day.”

Diane almost asked if there was a family recipe, before she remembered he said he didn’t have any family. Should she ask him about it? They were sitting in a quiet corner of the school grounds – well, as quiet as it got around here. Nobody was paying them any mind, at least.

“I was going to ask if you had a family recipe,” Diane said. She could feel Nick’s eyes on her again. “But I remembered what you said earlier.” She smiled at him apologetically.

Nick nodded, the amusement from his previous smile fading from his expression. His thumb on her hand paused, then resumed at the same slow pace. “I’m an only child,” he said finally. “My parents are gone, no cousins to speak of.” He looked back up from his tea. “I suppose there might be recipes in my mother’s things. I still have some boxes in the attic.”

Diane’s heart rolled over at the quiet pain in his voice. “What do you do for Christmas?” she asked.

“A quiet day in,” Nick replied. “I can actually cook, you know.”

“Roast dinners,” Diane replied with a smile.

“Yes,” he said. The silence stretched out again, and on impulse Diane shifted closer, their joined hands resting on her knee. “Tell me about your Christmas,” he said suddenly. “You have David, of course. Do you have brothers and sisters?”

Diane nodded. “A brother and a sister,” she said. “Two sisters-in-law, and a few nieces and nephews. My parents are gone too, so it’s just us at Christmas. We seem to have a few extras each year, though. Boyfriends, girlfriends, sometimes other people that don’t have somewhere else to be.”

“And does someone make your Aunt’s famous tortilla soup?” Nick asked.

“No,” Diane said, restraining herself from pointing her tongue out at him. “Actually my brother and his wife are both chefs, so I never have to cook. They are totally in charge. We do a big roast turkey at Thanksgiving, so Andrew and Sarah decided on a theme for Christmas lunch and we all just do what we’re told.”

Nick smiled. “Something different each year as a tradition. I like it.”

“It’s fun,” Diane agreed. “Some years have been less successful than others. One year they didn’t tell anyone the goulash had offal in it.” She shuddered. “They weren’t too popular after that.”

“I can imagine,” Nick replied.

“If you’re ever in Dallas at Christmas, or even Thanksgiving, you should come,” Diane said. “You can critique the meal, from a proper roast dinner perspective.”

Nick’s eyes widened. “I wouldn’t dare,” he replied. “But thank you, that’s very kind.”

They watched people move back and forth from the shelter out into the town again, talking about New Years’ and other special times of year. From Nick’s carefully nonchalant responses she could tell he was trying to downplay how much time he spent on his own. Or perhaps he hadn’t realised he was doing it – but it broke her heart to hear how causally he described his solitary life. Diane was incredibly conscious of how big a part her family played in her stories, but as she listened to him talk about the quiet walk he always took after dark on New Years’ Eve to reflect on the year, she finally realised what she’d recognised in his voice.

He was lonely.

And so was she.

Her fingers gripped without thinking, and he stopped speaking, looking at her quizzically. His thumb had slowed on the back of her hand 

“Sorry,” she said. To her mortification, she could feel tears starting to threaten again. Since when had she been so emotional about this? It was a long time since she’d been married, and almost as long since she’d had a partner, and yet recognising Nick’s loneliness was dragging up the emotions again against her will.

“Just…it’s nothing,” she said, swallowing down the lump in her throat. “Keep going.”

He hesitated, but continued, describing the variances and similarities from year to year. Diane allowed his voice to flow over her, a little guilty that she wasn’t paying more attention to what he was actually saying. It had shaken her, to find the word for what she was hearing in his voice. It was a word she determinedly did not apply to herself, and yet it was so familiar in Nick it had triggered this intense response. She blinked hard, willing the tears to stay back. Nick, bless his heart, continued to talk, perhaps sensing her distress, his thumb resuming its path across her hand. Diane breathed deeply. She couldn’t lose it again. Not after last night.

She realised all of a sudden that Nick had stopped talking.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not sure I caught everything you said.”

“I know,” he replied. “Are you alright?”

Diane laughed, and it sounded a lot closer to a sob that she had hoped. “You ask me that a lot,” she told him.

Nick shrugged. “It’s not easy, being here,” he replied.

“No,” she said.

“Is there anything I can do?”

Diane turned to him, peering hard. “I’m certain you’ve asked me that, too,” she said.

_Last night._

“I did,” Nick replied. He hesitated, then stood up. Diane blinked, wondering if she’d missed part of their conversation. He offered his hands to help her stand and she took them, pulling herself up until she was standing beside him, brushing grass off her pants.

Without a word, Nick opened his arms, offering the same as last night.

_I wanted a hug, and you obliged._

Diane looked at him for a moment, suddenly unsure, but his eyes were calm and kind, and honestly, she wanted to hug him. Her lips twitched in an almost smile as she stepped in. It was familiar, which was different to last night; all the hours since then changed the atmosphere as well.

“We’ve definitely been here, too,” she said, resting her cheek against his chest.

“Consider it an open invitation. If it’s needed,” Nick said quietly.

His words rumbled through her body and her ears. Diane had forgotten that happened when you were this close to someone. She couldn’t get the words out, so squeezed him a little in response and hoped he understood. Again, she was reminded of all the little things that happened when you were hugging someone for an extended time. She was warm now, the same temperature as Nick; the air between them was warm, too. The fabric against her cheek was rough, and she could feel her breathing synching with his.

“You’re doing a lot,” she said. “Just being here with someone. With you. It’s better than being on my own.”

“That sounds like a comfortably low bar for me to clear,” he said.

Diane felt her face burn, and she winced. “No, that’s not…”

“I know,” he said. “Thank you.”

“I know I talk about my family a lot,” Diane said, impulse making her start this conversation, “and we do talk, but,” she took a deep breath, “I spend a lot of time on my own.”

Nick nodded, his chin brushing her head. “I know what that’s like.”

“Lonely,” Diane whispered the word as though it was a secret.

“Yes,” Nick said finally. “It can be. Very much so.”

Diane pressed her face into his chest, and neither spoke again, though they had both acknowledged their shared truth. Another point of connection, she thought. Another thing we have in common, though we’re from other sides of that very wide ocean. She never would have thought to find someone she connected with, not from across the Atlantic.


	4. Chapter 4

By the time the sun was setting, Diane was exhausted again. She and Nick had taken themselves inside in search of a meal and someone told them showers were available; by the time they’d both found the lines and waited in the lines, it was dark outside. Not that the actual time was too much to go by; Diane had no idea what time her body thought it was. She was just tired again. At least they had turned the lights down in the classrooms so people could sleep if they wanted to.

She was sitting on the edge of the gym mat trying to decide if it was too early to try and get some sleep when Nick returned from the shower. His hair was still damp and it curled behind his ear. She smiled up at him, trying to ignore the somehow intimate detail. It was on display to anyone, she told herself, even if she was the only person who noticed.

“Better?” she said.

“Much,” he agreed. “Though I am very tired now.”

“Me too,” Diane said. “Big day.”

Nick agreed. “Cup of tea?” he asked.

She agreed, following him out to the cafeteria. “I brought a pack of cards, if you wanted to play something,” he said.

“How do you have cards?” she asked.

“I always carry a deck,” he said. “Sometimes when I’m travelling for work it’s good to have something to do.”

_When there’s nobody there to talk to._

The subtext was clear to Diane and she wondered if Nick realised she read so much into it.

“Okay,” she said. “But no Texas Hold’em. I’m terrible at poker.”

“Certainly,” Nick replied. “I generally play on my own,” Diane’s heart squeezed, but she ignored it, “but I am partial to Gin Rummy, if you’re familiar with it.”

“It was my Grandma’s favourite,” Diane told him with a smile. “Why don’t you deal?”

They made sure the rules they knew were the same before the started.

“It’s been years since I played cards,” Diane said. “Comes back, though.” She’d found herself arranging her cards automatically, her hand curving them in so Nick couldn’t see.

“It does,” Nick replied.

Their comments were confined to the game for a while, and the gentle rhythm of it was a nice change. They played several hands without bothering to keep score, Diane smiling at Nick’s enthusiasm. It was nice to see this side of him, she thought. He wasn’t generally a playful person, but it came out in him while they were doing this.

“Diane?”

“Sorry,” she said. It was her turn, and she laid out a set of threes before throwing out a card.

“A penny for them?” Nick asked, studying his hand.

“Nothing important,” Diane said, waiting as he considered his options.

“Are you alright?” he asked, the edge of his mouth twitching.

“You hadn’t asked in a few hours, I was thinking you didn’t care anymore,” Diane said, grinning as he played his turn.

“Of course I do,” Nick said with a smile. His eyes lingered, and Diane found herself drawn to them, the game forgotten for a moment. His words held more than perhaps he’d intended, and she felt her heart beating harder for a moment.

Did he feel it too?

“Well, now I know,” Diane said finally. She played the last of her cards, ending the round. “And Rummy, too.”

Nick nodded, putting his own cards down without looking. “I learned to play at boarding school,” he said. “We played a lot of cards.”

“Not much else to do?” Diane asked.

“If you weren’t sporty, which I was not, cards were the thing,” Nick said. “I didn’t fit in with the academic boys either, but we had far more in common.”

Diane nodded. She couldn’t really see Nick playing rugby, or whatever they played at English boarding schools. “What else did you get up to?” she said. “Wasn’t boarding school full of pranks and things?”

“Not for me,” Nick said.

The silence was telling, and it took Diane a moment to realise what Nick was not saying.

“Lonely,” she said quietly.

“Lonely,” Nick agreed.

“We did do one game,” Nick said. He piled the cards he’d been absently shuffling. “Draw for the high card.”

Diane drew. Ten of Clubs.

Nick drew. Jack of Hearts.

“So?” Diane asked.

“High card gets to ask a question,” Nick said. “Anything, and they can chose who answers it. We played with more than two people.”

Diane nodded, her heart pulsing a little harder. It was basically truth or dare, she thought, but without the dare.

“Alright,” she said. “Ask away.”

Nick considered. Diane wondered how he would do this. His first question would set the tone. Were they being funny? Playful? Serious? Silly?

“You said you’re allergic to bananas,” he started. “How did you find out?”

Diane shrugged, relieved it wasn’t something too personal. “I ate a banana,” she said simply. “And I broke out in hives – I can still remember the hives. Apparently they did allergy testing, though it wasn’t very sophisticated. But I mainly remember my mother sitting me down and telling me I was never ever to eat bananas again.”

Nick nodded. They drew again, Diane pulling the Ace of Diamonds to his Three of Spades.

“Tell me about the worse cup of tea you’ve ever had,” she said.

Nick wrinkled his nose. “Dallas airport, 1992,” he said immediately. “My first overseas trip to the US. First and last time I ever ordered tea at an airport.” He shuddered.

Diane giggled. He was quite funny, when he relaxed.

Another draw, Diane’s Seven of Hearts beating Nick’s Two of Diamonds.

“What made you chose engineering?” she asked.

“My father was an engineer,” Nick said.

“He wanted you to follow in his footsteps?” Diane asked.

“No,” Nick said. His face was serious, and Diane realised she’d inadvertently asked something with a quite personal answer. “I don’t know what he wanted.” He frowned. “I went into engineering to impress him, I think. To get his attention.”

Diane nodded. “Do you think it worked?” she asked.

The smile Nick offered gave Diane a physical pain. She could see the pain in his eyes, old pain as deep as his soul. “No,” he said. “I’m not sure he noticed, actually.”

“I’m sorry,” Diane said quietly. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

Nick’s hand appeared on the table, covering hers. “You didn’t,” he said simply.

He offered her the deck again, and she was relieved when he won this time. His eyes rested on her for a second before he asked carefully, “Is there a reason you’re not seeing anyone at the moment?”

Diane’s heart almost stopped. She noticed he’d phrased it so she could give a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer, but there was clearly an invitation to expand if she wanted to. It was something he wanted to know, or he wouldn’t have asked. What should she say?

She picked up her mug, drinking the lukewarm tea for something to do.

“I wouldn’t say there is,” she answered slowly. “It’s not something I’ve really thought about recently. I don’t…look for dates. For people. I just live my life. And right now, it’s just me.”

Nick nodded thoughtfully and Diane wondered what he thought of her answer.

“And David,” he said.

“And David,” Diane agreed with a smile. “He moved out a couple of years ago now, so at home it’s….just me.”

Nick nodded again, waiting to see if she would add anything further.

Diane didn’t know what she would add, if there was anything. Instead she reached for the cards, cutting them without looking and showing Nick the card.

“Ace of Spades,” he said with a smile. He cut the remainder of the deck and showed it to Diane.

“Nine of Spades,” she said.

They replaced their cards and he looked expectantly at her. After such a personal question from Nick she thought she should have been more nervous, but in fact it had broken the ice a little and she felt more relaxed.

“What will you do when you get home?” Diane asked. In her head, she’d meant ‘what is the first thing you want to do?’, but as she watched Nick consider her question, she realised it was a little ambiguous. She remained quiet, wondering how he had interpreted her words.

“My first reaction would be to say nothing will have changed, so I’ll do the same as I used to,” Nick said quietly, stacking the cards again and not looking at Diane. “But in fact, many things have.”

Diane nodded, opening her mouth to ask another question before closing it again. She wasn’t sure of the protocol when it came to follow up questions and she was about to reach for the cards again when Nick looked up and met her eyes.

“Were you going to say something?” he asked quietly.

She met his eyes, and slowly nodded. “What’s changed?” she asked.

His fingers were laced carefully in front of him. It was too far across the table to reach for him, but Diane wanted to. The contact between them had become important in the relatively few hours they’d spent together.

She wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

“I have,” Nick replied. He frowned a little, then smiled. “It has been a long time since I’ve spent so much time with other people. It’s not as difficult as I remember.”

Diane nodded. She glanced around at the busy cafeteria. “So many people,” she said conspiratorially, and was rewarded with a smile.

“Not just other people,” Nick said. He turned his eyes back to her, and Diane felt her heart skip at his expression. “I’ve enjoyed today,” he said. “Very much.”

“Me too,” Diane whispered.

They shared another small smile, and Diane picked up her mug, nervous for something to do with her hands. The tea was cold, and the moment between them broke as she made a face.

“Cold?” Nick asked.

“Yes,” Diane said. She wasn’t sure if they were going to pick up their conversation, but before she could make a decision one way or the other, a yawn rose and she had to shield her mouth. “Sorry.”

“It’s probably late enough to retire,” Nick said.

Diane nodded. They moved without speaking, she taking their mugs, he the cards; Diane could feel the connection between them even before they joined hands in the hallway. The hall way and classrooms were darker and quieter now, and the noise from the cafeteria faded as they walked further towards their classroom. A moment to collect their things and they went their separate ways to the bathrooms.

Diane returned first. She remembered the previous evening and her intention to wait for Nick; her eyes were heavy again tonight, but she didn’t want to fall asleep before he arrived. Instead she sat up, hugging her knees through the blanket she’d already draped over them. The seconds passed and her head grew heavy, so she rested her cheek on her knees, closing her eyes despite her efforts.

_I need to say goodnight._

_I need to tell him…_

“Diane?”

She felt the gym mat dip, and Nick’s face appeared when she forced her eyes open.

“Nick,” she murmured, feeling a smile pull at her mouth. “I didn’t want to fall asleep.”

“I think you might have done,” he replied.

She hummed, feeling herself dip towards him. He shifted and she was pressed against his chest, his arm around her shoulders to stop her falling.

_Warm. Comforting._

“I had to say goodnight,” she said, the words almost sticking in her mouth.

“Good night,” Nick replied.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Diane told him, her eyes closing. His hand was stroking her shoulder. It was nice. The hair falling over her face was annoying, but she couldn’t lift her hand to move it.

_Doesn’t matter._

As though he knew, she felt gentle fingers tucking her hair back behind her ear. A hum of appreciation was all Diane could manage, and she couldn’t be certain there wasn’t a second touch, something that felt a lot like a soft kiss on her forehead.

_Nice…_

“Come on,” Nick murmured.

Diane was barely awake now, and certainly not in charge of most of her body; it was far too heavy for her to move. Nick was moving, shifting his weight and guiding her to lie down. It was a little disconcerting, but when she felt the firm gym mat beneath her, Diane mustered the energy to reach for Nick.

“Don’t go,” she whispered, fingers closing on fabric.

“I won’t,” he replied, and his hands covered hers. She released the fabric in favour of his hand, and as she slipped away into sleep he was the last thing of which she thought.


	5. Chapter 5

Diane stirred, waking slowly. She blinked her eyes open, looking across the small space. Nick was right next to her, breathing slowly in sleep. From what she could hear, the rest of the room was asleep; it was dark, and only the gentle restlessness registered in her ears.

She didn’t know what had woken her. Closing her eyes to try and rest again, Diane found herself far too awake to allow it to happen. She tried counting slowly forwards and backwards, regulating her breathing, clearing her mind; nothing worked well enough and she was back where she’d started, staring in the dim light at Nick’s face opposite. He was still asleep, thank goodness, not privy to the same sleeplessness she was experiencing. Whether it was jetlag or something else, it wouldn’t help her to lie here awake for hours.

Carefully Diane rolled over, realising their hands had loosened enough in sleep to have lost their grip on each other. It made her sad, for some reason, though it was easier to leave without waking Nick; he should sleep, even if she couldn’t. The gym mat dipped as she moved, and Diane felt herself holding her breath as though it might keep Nick from waking. He shifted and she froze, waiting for his frown to smooth and his limbs to settle again before easing the rest of her weight onto the floor so she could stand.

The school was quiet. Whatever time it was, most people were obviously still asleep. The sky outside was dark, which didn’t mean much, but Diane knew she’d only been asleep a few hours. Though her mind was too restless, her eyes were still a little heavy and she knew the day would be long and probably emotional if she wasn’t able to get back to sleep. Somehow that knowledge just made it more difficult to envisage being relaxed enough to sleep.

Might as well take a leaf out of Nick’s book and go searching for a cup of tea, then.

The cafeteria was lit, though less brightly than during the day. There were some people here, talking quietly or reading. A couple of locals were working, preparing food or cleaning dishes. Diane smiled at the man closest to the urn, shaking her head when he offered cookies, then cake, then brownies; it was clear gifts of service were the love language for these people. So many people working in the middle of the night, so much food obviously made in ovens around the island, bought here to ease the stranded passengers’ loneliness.

Loneliness.

There was an idea with which she was still coming to terms. Right now, with Nick still in bed, she was increasingly aware of his absence. They had barely spent a moment apart, and it made standing here alone strange and definitely uncomfortable. Diane put it to the side for the moment, making her tea before she turned to the cafeteria. Though it was quiet, she wanted somewhere with a little more solitude, and she found her feet taking her towards the couch she’d found on that first day. She wasn’t sure why but when she thought _comfort_ this was the place that came to mind.

As she sat in the same seat, Diane looked across the space. Of course it was empty right now, and as she sipped at the tea in her hand, a quiet realisation came to her. It wasn’t the space that was comforting. It was the memory of Nick. The first time he’d asked _Are you alright? Is there anything I can do?_ was right here. The first time his calm eyes had looked at her without judgement and offered her what she so desperately needed.

The comfort was Nick. Her comfort was Nick.

Diane’s hands cupped around her mug as she felt acceptance settle in her heart. It felt like an extension of the change she’d first noticed in herself right here. She supposed it was natural continuation of the relationship growing between Nick and her. They hadn’t said the words, but with each quiet moment together Diane felt the space between them drawing in, the closeness soothing a pain she hadn’t even known was buried within.

_Loneliness._

It wasn’t as lonely with Nick here. Even the idea of Nick – knowing he was asleep down the hall, that they would see each other in the morning and spend time together dong nothing in particular – made her feel calmer. Less alone. When her mind asked what might happen after this was all over, Diane felt a frown pull in her brow. She couldn’t think that far ahead. It was enough to have this now. Staring into her tea, Diane dared to allow herself a flash of possibility that if Nick came to Dallas for work, they might meet for a meal.

_No. Just appreciate this._

“Diane?”

Nick’s voice was quiet, but the shock still coursed through her at the sound. She looked up to see him standing next to the couch, two mugs steaming gently in his hands.

“Hi,” she said.

Their eyes met for a long moment, neither speaking. The change in her felt enormous, and Diane wondered if Nick could see it. His eyes were always calm, and she could feel him assessing her as she placed her mug on the floor.

“I hope I didn’t wake you,” she said quietly.

“It’s fine,” he said, the exact answer she knew he would give. “I wasn’t sure where to find you.”

“I wanted somewhere quieter than the cafeteria,” she said, the apology in her voice.

He nodded. “This was the first place I looked,” he said. “After the cafeteria.”

Another moment of quiet passed between them. It was interesting how comfortable these moments were, Diane thought, accepting the mug he offered. She watched without speaking as he moved to sit beside her. Very close beside her, actually; they both shifted as Nick’s arm settled around her shoulder. Diane moved closer, their hips pressing together. Her free hand landed on his knee. Neither mentioned it, but when Diane felt his chest expand with a deep breath, it resonated through her soul. His whole body relaxed and she wondered if he’d been nervous, choosing to sit beside her instead of opposite, as he had the last time they were here.

So much had happened since then, and yet nothing had. They hadn’t done anything, really; walk and talk, drink coffee and play cards…but nothing was the same between them, either. His arm was warm around her shoulders, and Diane wasn’t surprised at how calm she felt. No nerves, no tension at wondering what his ulterior motives might be. Just the relief of knowing not only that he was close but that he was on the same page as she was. Or close, at least.

“Can I say something kind of ridiculous?” Nick asked.

“Sure,” Diane replied without looking at him.

The seconds while he thought passed slowly; she marked them with the slow breaths he pulled into his lungs.

“I missed you,” he said quietly. “When I woke up and you weren’t there.” He paused, and Diane could feel the shaky exhalation as he let out the breath he’d been holding.

Diane realised her hand was making circles on the inside of Nick’s knee, as much to reassure herself he was there as to comfort him. His words were almost a relief.

“It was strange being in the cafeteria alone,” she replied. “I don’t think I’ve been anywhere on my own since…” she swallowed.

“I know,” Nick replied. “That’s why I thought you might come here.”

“Yes,” Diane replied, and it was the right moment to look up at him. He was as close as she thought he might be, eyes kind as they met hers from mere inches away. She felt his breath hitch and wondered if he could feel how irregular hers became too. Another moment in which a choice had to be made; another in which gentle understanding smiles replaced kisses. She wasn’t disappointed. It wasn’t no, it was not yet.

_Not yet._

They were still close, and Diane shifted, her body weight easing a little more onto Nick. Her head could rest on his shoulder, and she sipped at the tea he’d made, enjoying him being so close. In the quiet second before she spoke, his heart beat loud against her ear.

“Thank you for the tea,” Diane said. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Early,” Nick replied. “Still dark.”

“Do you know what’s happening with the planes?” Diane asked.

“No,” he murmured. The sound rumbled through Diane and she drew it into herself. It felt so intimate, knowing the precise feeling of someone’s voice as it vibrated through you.

“What will you do when you get home?” Nick asked.

Diane recognised her question from the previous night. She wondered if Nick was offering her the same grace - deciding on how she wanted to interpret it – and she chose to answer the same question he had.

“I’ll open up my house,” she said. “Unpack. Do all the same things I used to. But I won’t really be there.”

“You won’t?”

“Part of me will be here,” Diane said. She turned to Nick. “And if you don’t mind too much,” she smiled, meeting his eyes again, “I think you’ll be taking a part of me with you, too.”

Nick smiled. “And I with you,” he said. “I didn’t expect this.”

“Neither did I,” Diane said, and damned if she wasn’t close to tears again.

This time when she turned her head into Nick there was no ambiguity – he definitely pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she closed her eyes, savouring the contact without seeking more. They were still moving closer, and their unspoken agreement to allow the emotional connection to grow filled her again with comfort. The quiet wrapped around them again, and more deep breaths marked the time as it wandered past. A few people walked along the hall, though Diane only registered them as flashes of passing colour. She could feel the comfortable atmosphere wrap around like a bubble, and they must have appeared content because nobody tried to impose themselves.

Until they did.

“I’m sorry,” the voice said.

Diane looked up, and she could see that Nick was doing the same. Her mug was empty by now, but she was still holding it; leaning forward would break the physical connection with Nick, and that was something she wasn’t prepared to do.

“They’ve started asking people to head to the airport,” the woman said, her face full of embarrassed apology.

“Sure,” Diane said. “Thank you.”

She turned to Nick to find him already facing her. He offered her a reassuring smile, and though she felt the sadness behind it, she returned it anyway. She knew they were both feeling the same right now, even if no words were exchanged.

“Shall we?” Nick asked. “We’ll have to collect our clothes.”

“Yes,” Diane said. She hesitated before resting one hand to Nick’s cheek and kissing him on the other, allowing herself a second to linger close. Her cheek pressed against his, the roughness scraping a little. She didn’t care. It was proof that this was real.

Without looking at him again, she stood, taking both her mugs. “We should drop these off first.”

“Yes,” Nick agreed.

Their hands were joined before they even stepped away from the couch, and Diane knew she was walking closer to Nick. It was close enough that she had to match his strides, and she knew he was shortening his so she could keep up. Neither said a word as they passed through the halls. Classrooms had their lights on, and the sound was slowly increasing, the tension in the air rising with each anxious face they passed. The locals smiled at them as they added their dishes to the stack, and Diane murmured a thanks.

“O’course,” came the response immediately. “Anytime you needs.”

The line to collect clothes was still blessedly short, and this time they stayed together. Waiting together in two lines as preferable to waiting once alone. Another decision made without speaking. Another moment of agreement that made Diane feel better about the inevitable separation that would come when they arrived back in Dallas. If they both wanted to spend the extra few minutes together, surely that was a good thing. She wouldn’t even let her head question the idea.

A few moments apart while they changed into their own clothes, and they met back at their gym mat to pack up their things. Diane had spent some time on her hair and makeup, though it probably didn’t matter. She felt better, at least, and seeing Nick smile as she approached made her flush like a schoolgirl.

“You look nice,” Nick said. He smoothed his blazer nervously.

“My own actual clothes,” she said with a smile. “And yours.”

“Not quite the same as the Gander jacket,” he replied. “But more comfortable.”

“More you,” Diane added. She tucked her makeup into her carry-on bag and made sure she had everything. “Should we find a bus?”

“Yes,” Nick replied.

With everyone moving around in the shelter it was crowded, and Diane was grateful Nick was holding onto her as tightly as she was to him. While nobody was outright panicking, the tension had certainly increased and most people looked far more stressed than they had earlier. The locals were still helping, and Diane was amazed to see smiles on so many faces.

Somebody stopped her and Nick, offering packed lunches for them to take on the plane, and they accepted, stopping to tuck the packages into their bags.

Neither spoke, but they smiled at each other as they came back together and joined the line to board a bus to the airport.

For all the anxiety around them, Diane felt calm. She was here with Nick, and that was enough for now. She was not allowing herself to entertain fantasies or ideas about the future; she would only think of what was happening here. Whatever else might come, she had Nick’s fingers laced with hers and it shielded her from much of the tension around them.


	6. Chapter 6

Security at the airport was strict and slow. By the time they had made it through and found where passengers from their flight were congregating, Diane was starting to flag. The lack of sleep was telling, even though it was only mid-morning, and she couldn’t hold back her yawn. She saw Nick flick a look at her before he found a spare section of wall not far from the sign bearing their flight number. Without speaking, he put his bag on the floor, leaned back against the wall and opened his arms.

She didn’t speak as she did the same, resting against his chest without question. When his heartbeat throbbed through her head Diane felt her eyes close; this was all she needed right now. The steady beat against her ear, Nick warm and solid as she wrapped her arms around him. They settled together and he rested his chin on her head, hands warm on her back. It was familiar now and Diane felt her own heart slow as their breathing melded into one.

She had no idea how long they stood there, or even if she fell asleep; there was certainly a period in which she wasn’t entirely sure of what was going on around her, but she wasn’t sure how much she might have dozed off. Nick’s arms were heavy around her, and she drowsily remembered how much that very first hug had moved her. The kind of hug where nobody is saying hello or goodbye or congratulations. The ‘I just need some human contact’ kind of thing that she didn’t get so often these days.

Well, that had changed. Only two days, and between them she and Nick had developed this quietly demonstrative relationship without even speaking about it. Holding hands was their default; hugs and casual touches happened often and without comment or awkwardness. It was more regular physical contact than she’d had with anybody in a long time. The absence of it had affected her deeply, though she could only see it now, from this place of having it again. Having this with somebody was deeply comforting in a way she didn’t entirely understand. The thought floated through her head without emotion attached; she was curious to see how she might interpret it later. Right now she was just breathing in time with Nick, allowing the world to slip away for a while.

“That’s us,” Nick murmured, the vibration rousing her more than the noise. The space was busy around them anyway, but the gentle shifting of his hands across her back and the rumble through his chest was a definite change. Diane blinked as she stood up, eyes adjusting to the brightness. Her hands slipped reluctantly from him, lingering for just a second on his waist before pulling away.

He caught one of hers in his at the same moment his eyes captured hers. “Are you awake?”

“I’m not sure,” she admitted with a smile. “I may have drifted off for a moment.”

“You were snoring,” Nick told her, mischief in his eyes.

“I was not!” she replied indignantly.

“Well, perhaps not,” he replied, squeezing her hand. “But they have asked our flight to start boarding.”

“Oh,” Diane said, still looking at him a little suspiciously. Had she been snoring? Unlikely, given how lightly she would have been sleeping, and still…

They boarded without hassle, people remarkably patient given how long they must have been waiting. She felt uneasy, the beginnings of questions ghosting around her head.

_What happens when…_

_No, not yet._

The shadows were much shorter than Diane remembered, so it must have been a few hours at least. Closer to midday. Had Nick stood there all that time with her resting against him? He must have. Diane glanced at him, wondering if he was permitting himself to consider the future, or if he was content to live in this moment.

She wouldn’t say she was content, per se. Just…wanting to save herself any potential embarrassment and heartache.

_No point wondering about the future. It’ll happen when it happens._

Though Diane had previously been sitting far from Nick, the flight attendants were telling them they could sit wherever they liked. The flight wasn’t full, apparently, so Nick led the way further to the back and they found seats beside a window.

“Is this where you were sitting on the way in?” Diane asked.

“Close,” Nick replied.

They fell silent as the plane slowly filled, excited chatter escalating until the noise bounced off every surface of the cabin. Diane couldn’t help glancing at Nick every few seconds. He seemed calm, his thumb tracing a circle on her hand as it sat between them. She looked down at it, studying the shape of his hand in hers. His fingers curled right in, dwarfing her own; it felt protective and right.

_What will happen…_

_Stop it._

The questions in her mind were becoming harder to push away. They had actually boarded their plane, the flight attendants coming to check seatbelts, smiling with tears in their eyes as they did so. It was imminent now that they would leave; after waiting in the airport and the hours on the ground, they would begin to make their way back to Dallas in the next few minutes.

_And then what?_

_No._

Diane wouldn’t let herself consider it. Instead she shifted, reaching her free hand across to wrap around Nick’s as it rested in hers. He looked over at the contact, surprise morphing into a smile as he copied her. Their hands were warm now, all tangled together between them and as they felt the engines begin to speed up, Diane knew her fingers tightened on Nick’s.

_This is it._

_The beginning of the end._

The cabin had been getting louder and louder, but as they began to taxi down the runway it dropped away, replaced by a silence only hundreds of people holding their collective breath can achieve.

The cabin rattled as they ran over the uneven ground.

Diane closed her eyes.

_I’m not ready._

The force pressed her head back into the seat.

She swallowed hard.

The roar of the engines reached its peak.

Diane clutched Nick harder, knowing she was holding her breath too until the plane lurched a little, a final bump before the balance tipped and they rose into the air, smooth and even.

A cheer sounded, arms flying up in celebration.

It wasn’t until she opened her eyes Diane realised she was crying.

_We’re leaving._

_It’s over._

There was no escaping it now. Their time in Gander had been magical, but it was done. Nick was next to her, but she would blink and he would be gone, taking his gentle smile and ready hugs across the Atlantic back to London.

And she would be alone again.

Hastily she turned to the window, watching the ground below drop away as they rose into the air. The take-off had been smooth, but further up there was turbulence and the cabin was hardly steady. It didn’t bother Diane as she stared down at the island, knowing it was futile to have turned away from Nick to hide her tears. He had a remarkable way of reading her even if he couldn’t see her face, which she suspected he would be able to do anyway.

“Diane?” Nick asked. He eased his hands out from their tangle between them. Diane heard fabric hush against fabric and he passed her a handkerchief.

“Are you alright?”

It would be funny if the answer wasn’t such a resounding, ‘No,’ Diane thought to herself. How many times had he asked her that exact question? And every time he’d offered something to help, some part of himself that was actually perfectly what she needed right then. But now there was nothing he could offer. Nothing that would ease her growing sadness that the quiet intimacy they’d nurtured over two short days would be finished as soon as they landed at DFX.

“Is there anything I can do?”

She turned to him, brushing tears away with a self-conscious hand, the long rooted fear of running mascara guiding her fingers under her lower eyelids. She tried to smile at him, but seeing her own sadness mirrored in his eyes, she knew it would be futile. He knew what was affecting her because it was affecting him too.

_He recognises it in me, as I recognised the loneliness in him._

He opened his arms as much as he could in the confined space, and Diane leaned in as he wrapped his arms around her. It wasn’t the same, of course, but she appreciated it, even as the bumpy flight caused them to jostle together instead of settling into a comfortable situation. She felt him press a kiss to her head. He’d kissed her on the forehead before, but this time Diane wasn’t sure it was the same. It lingered, for one, and there was a more definite intent behind it.

Easing back, she looked at him. Was it the turbulence that had guided him to the wrong place?

His eyes were a little questioning, but as she held his gaze, it changed, and she felt something pass through her. This was the moment. Yet another moment in which someone might decide to kiss someone, and there was nothing telling her that it wasn’t right. No hesitance in Nick’s eyes that said _not quite yet._ No peaceful acceptance in her own mind that they would have time, another chance…

No. Now was the moment.

Reaching up, she cupped his face, not letting her eyes wander lest he change his mind. His mouth had dropped open ever so slightly and she could see the same understanding in his eyes, so they both moved to close the space between them. When their lips met in the middle, Diane couldn’t remember a more perfect moment in her entire life. It was a gentle press at first, an acknowledgement that this was the intention, that neither had horrendously misinterpreted something else. When that had been determined they drew back only to meet again, a more certain contact that sealed their mouths.

Diane felt her fingers slide along Nick’s jaw, and somewhere in her mind she registered his hand on her waist. The world receded, much like it always did when she was in Nick’s arms but now it was…more. More right. Much like her ignorance about her loneliness, she only realised how much her life had been lacking now that she was in this moment. Nick’s breath rolled across her cheek as they both relaxed, moving together slowly. Just when she thought Nick was familiar, here was a whole new way of knowing him. Diane’s mind was filled with new information, all of it fitting together with what she already knew about Nick.

It was wonderful.

Sometime later they eased apart. The awkwardness Diane anticipated never came; it was them again, the same but a little different. Nick was looking at her as though she was his whole world, and Diane wondered how long he might have been hiding that away. Perhaps a question for another time, as she smiled, allowing all her affection to flow out and into his eyes.

“I don’t know if I can say goodbye to you,” Nick told her.

It should have been a huge statement, after only a couple of days, but Diane simply smiled.

“Me either,” she admitted.

She should have been stressed about what he meant, what he might expect, but she wasn’t.

“If the offer is still open, to come to Thanksgiving, I promise I won’t criticise the roast dinner,” he said.

“Always,” Diane replied. “You can stay with me.”

Nick nodded, unsurprised by her offer. They’d both fallen hard and deep, and it was comforting to know he was equally lost to their connection.

“I’ll have to return to London at some point,” he said. “To pack things up.”

“So you’ll move to Dallas,” Diane said.

The curve of his mouth as he smiled was fascinating, Diane thought absently, resisting the urge to trace it with her thumb.

“They’ve been asking me to consider a transfer for years,” Nick admitted. “But I had no reason.”

Diane nodded. “You’ll stay in Dallas for a while first?”

“Of course,” Nick replied.

“I’ll come back to London with you,” she said. “For a while.”

“Of course,” he said again, and they met in the middle, another kiss sealing the simplest of discussions. It must have lingered because when the flight attendant spoke, her gentle exasperation made it clear she’d been standing there for a few moments.

“I was offering hot towels,” she said, “but perhaps a cold one might be more appropriate?”

Diane flushed, her smile matched by Nick’s until the flight attendant moved on.

“What will David say?” Nick asked.

“I don’t know,” Diane said. “He won’t mind, his new flatmate is nice enough so he’s not looking to move back in.” She was talking about Nick moving in with her, of course; she simply assumed that was what he meant.

“As soon as work approves the transfer I can hire someone to sell most of my belongings,” he said. “There’s not a lot of sentimental value. It shouldn’t take too long.”

“We could try and find your mother’s cookbooks,” Diane said. “If you wanted to.”

Nick smiled. “Certainly,” he replied.

Enough moments had elapsed without kissing, so Diane leaned in, smiling when Nick followed suit. More uncounted moments passed as they kissed, until Diane found her forehead leaning against Nick’s, eyes still closed as she tried to process what had changed since take-off.

“I was not expecting this,” Diane murmured.

“Neither was I,” Nick replied, tilting his head to speak against her lips.

“When we least expected it,” Diane said with a smile. “What a cliché.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading this wander-y, quiet little package of comfort. I hope you're all safe and that this story might have helped you find somewhere a little less anxious right now.  
> Stay safe. <3


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